I was married to a hairdresser,
and in June 2017
he told me he would no longer cut my hair.
(Or sleep in the same bed.
Or share our life, our finances, our time.)
I’ve been sleeping alone since then,
and have fought mightily
to stay committed to this plane of existence,
and I have progressed by leaps and bounds
since June 2017, when I was
a messy slobbering puddle on the floor
grieving my life before it was blown apart.
As time passed
I discovered that I enjoyed sleeping alone,
and I felt more committed to
staying on this plane of existence,
but I still hadn’t gotten my hair cut.
I had built up the importance
of finding a new hairdresser
to the point of feeling anxious
and overwhelmed at the prospect of choosing.
So I didn’t choose.
I did nothing.
My dear friend gifted me with a hair cut last July
when I visited her in Colorado,
and I was oh so grateful to be neatened up a bit…
but I still hadn’t found
someone else to cut my hair in this town where I live,
Today I picked up the phone,
dialed the salon nearest my house,
booked the next available appointment,
found my way into a chair just an hour later.
I got a haircut!
I got a haircut!
I got a haircut!
And I am free at last.
I just want to be a good mother.
I try so hard.
And at the end of the day,
I lose it sometimes.
I lose it with my kids
when I’m tired and they’re tired.
There used to be another adult around
who’d step in
when I couldn’t anymore.
That adult is gone.
When I’m tired and sick
there is no one else to take care of me
I’m tired of taking care of myself,
tired of being alone.
I want help.
It’s in these moments
that the anger wells up
if I don’t stop it.
I get angry for being thrust into this place
of missing my kids when they’re not here
and overwhelmed when they are.
I’m tired of this mess, this story.
I can do so well for hours and hours.
I can be proud of my mothering,
the balance I manage to find.
But at the end of the day
I’m tired and they’re tired
and sometimes I just lose it.
Just when I think to myself
I’ve got this, I’m better,
I’m back down on my knees
by the side of my bed
sobbing the Serenity Prayer
to some Higher Power
I hope exists
but whose presence
I cannot quite feel
in those moments
of deep sadness and disconnection.
I turn back to my breath.
I sigh out the deep pain,
but it keeps coming,
the tears keep coming.
Is there no end to this?
Frequently it happens
that I am struck by a memory
of the times we were together,
a family of four,
and although we had our challenges
(like everyone else)
all was well with the world.
Two beautiful children,
jobs we liked and were good at,
a home, a life together.
And then one day it all changed.
You were done.
You blamed me.
You betrayed me.
I have spent nearly two years
trying to get back on my feet,
and I’m almost there.
I’m certainly stronger now
than I was at this time last year…
But what do I do with the memories of before?
Sometimes they are enough to bring me to my knees.
I can see our children happy, smiling,
I can hear my voice. I can see your face.
I can hear you telling me you loved me.
And then one day…
you didn’t love me anymore.
One day you told me
that your pain was my fault.
You told me what you were doing was brave,
that it took courage to leave.
I think the real courage would’ve been found
in your willingness to see your part in all of this,
and in your ability to ask yourself
why you were hurting so deeply
that you would betray the woman you married
and wound her the way that you did.
Today it is cold, gray and raining outside,
perfectly matching the state of my heart.
I miss my children.
I miss our life together.
And I know I would be fine,
if it weren’t for all the memories.
as I read books about sacred intimacy
between the divine masculine and
the divine feminine,
I realize how I resent being unpartnered.
I realize how I never thought
I’d be celibate for two years
at this stage of my life.
I think about my natural urges
as a grown woman,
my need for touch, intimacy, connection,
my desire to share myself with a sensitive, loving partner.
I think about how easy it would be
to create a profile on Tinder
and just hook up with someone.
that is not who I am.
Maybe in my 20’s
casual sex seemed like an okay thing to do,
but not anymore.
In order to experience
what I truly desire:
a profoundly deep connection
and the joy of truly being seen,
heard, held and cherished
within a safe intimate relationship,
I have a lot of work to do.
First on myself
and on the tendencies
that led me into a marriage
with a man who rejected
who I was at my deepest core,
I have to start somewhere
and maybe actually go on a few dates.
UGH. UGH. UGH.
Hi, I’m Lorien.
I’m recently divorced,
I have two young children,
and I’m still healing
from the tremendous pain I experienced
when my ex-husband abandoned me.
I’m not sure I would want me
with that kind of endorsement.
So maybe I’m not ready after all.
So HEY! Just curious. Is there anyone out there who went through a godawful, brutal divorce, healed from it, and managed to go on and meet someone with whom you’re enjoying a safe and healthy relationship? Anyone with kids from a previous marriage who managed to meet someone new and engage in a better, healthier relationship than the one you had with your children’s other parent? I’m all ears. I’d love to hear what worked for you in your healing process and any insights you’d offer to someone like me, who isn’t all that excited at the prospect of dating, but who longs for a safe, intimate partnership with someone sane and healthy—and who has no idea where to begin…
It occurred to me
that every second I spend
trying to get him
to give me the money
that is mine by law
is a second I divert my attention
from the mission
of creating my own money
by offering value to the world
doing the things I know how to do best.
I’m choosing to let go.
I was told not to hold my breath
so I’m breathing,
slowly and deeply
and with gratitude
that I can wake up to this moment
and open to being taught.
Are you he,
the one who procreated with me
and then left,
blaming me for everything?
Or are you one of his minions,
currying favor with him,
by feeding the thought
that I’m the crazy one?
don’t you have anything better to do,
than to scour the internet
looking for proof
that his lies about me are true?
I am a woman
making my way back on my feet
after a devastating loss.
Are you his new victim?
Do you believe the story that he loves you?
He told me he loved me once.
But when all was said and done,
it was easier to blame me for his pain
than to man up and work on himself.
You can troll all you want.
He can say that I am “whining” online.
But I will not stop speaking my truth.
And someday you might discover
that the things you criticize in me
are the disowned places in you
crying out for your loving attention.
When you feel ready to access those places,
you’ll stop pointing your finger at others
and go in the only real direction
that you haven’t yet explored…
Yesterday in a text message my ex-husband accused me of “whining online.” If you look at my post yesterday, you’ll see I talked about some challenges I’m currently going through: his underpayment of court-ordered support and the subsequent need to take legal action, as well as my need to secure new health insurance. Admittedly I was a bit startled when he referenced my online activity—choosing words that confirmed he had read my post—because it got me thinking that he or someone else is trolling this blog, stirring up adversity and feeding the story that there is something wrong with me. I speak this out into space, because I’m discovering more and more that abuse and shame can’t exist out in the open. Our secrets make us sick, and I won’t keep it a secret that the man I once loved is deciding to take liberties with the agreement he signed his name on, and justifying withholding funds from court-ordered support for me and his children with his twisted logic. I speak this out in the open, because unfortunately, underpayment or no payment of child support is the norm in our society, and those who have a legal responsibility to provide support to their children and former partners somehow manage to dodge the law and dodge the consequences that the law would mete out if they were caught in a timely fashion. I speak this out because I want this trend to change. I realize that if it has been this awful for me—coming from relative privilege (education, resources, community, job)—how must it be for the population of underprivileged single moms out there who don’t have access to the same resources? Finally, my words are my power. By speaking my truth I know who I am. I will not back down. I plan on fighting a good fight, for myself and all moms everywhere who struggle to know what their future will hold in a time of such volatility and uncertainty.
And to you trolls out there, whether you are he himself, or his new intimate victim, or one of his “friends,” keep reading. Enjoy my posts. Have fun. May you be safe, happy, healthy, peaceful and at ease. And may the pure light of awareness shine upon you and lead you to the realization that what you do to another you do to yourself, so that you can begin helping instead of continuing to hurt. When you feed a story like this, it helps no one. I stand with my hand stretched out in friendship, and you can take it at any time. The choice is yours.